


Angel Down We Go Together

by geewizzle



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, based on the news about how ed will be brought into s5 by john stephens, hopeful, i tried my best to interpret the info he gave the best i could, set in the beginning of season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 13:35:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15462540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geewizzle/pseuds/geewizzle
Summary: Eventually the rumours made their way to the Iceberg Lounge.Profane whispers of  "The Riddler scavenging the dirty streets completely naked" and how Edward was now "Covered from head to toe in tattoos like some sort of freak show attraction!".Oswald refused to take gospel to any of the nonsense that he heard, though the rumours at least comforted the thought that Edward was alive.





	Angel Down We Go Together

**Author's Note:**

> So I took all the info that John Stephans gave us about early s5 Ed and ran with that. It's kinda like a version of what could happen in the first episode. You could also take this in a romantic or friendship direction it's up to you. I have high hopes for Ed and Os' relationship finally getting fixed next season so here is another ode to that. Enjoy :)

Oswald stood marvelling the door in front of him. He chewed one of his fingernails loosely out of a nervous habit. His heart was humming, like it often had when it came to these mysterious and hesitant encounters. Oswald didn't know what he would expect to find on the other side of the darkly-stained wooden door. Sure, he had heard the rumours. They echoed around him like childhood fables, seeming ridiculous and unfathomable. 

And yet, Oswald could picture Ed's hands stained with watery black ink. His body bleeding ebony with angry etches of words riddled all over his skin. Oswald could see Edward huddled over hundreds of books, frantically flipping through the pages as if searching for answers to a puzzle he was yet to even conceive. He could visualise the claustrophobic messes that lay inside the library rooms, aftermaths of Edward impulsively bursting with rage, confusion and subsequent melancholy. He could see the crystal tears in his eyes, reflecting the sunlight like diamonds as they fell to the floor. 

Oswald knew the other man so well, so how could he not see the pain isolated behind the closed door. 

His mind was absent as the footsteps of his men soon followed up the stairs, behind Oswald. The Penguin ignored them, knowing they were awaiting his instructions. Earlier, once one of them had told Oswald that they had seen Edward approach the library, he didn't hesitate to gather his men and demand they show him Ed's whereabouts. 

Edward had been missing from the eyes of Gotham city for weeks. 

Strange had successfully reanimated both Leslie Thompkins and Edward Nygma, to which Oswald was eminently grateful for. Though he was preoccupied with rebuilding his Iceberg Lounge at City Hall at the time, Oswald's men had told him that Lee had awoken in perfect health and with a newfound gratitude to Oswald for bringing her back. She left Strange's lab with only a few words, walking back out into the decaying city streets. 

When Oswald asked about Edward however, one of his men winced. The look alone sparked a panic in Oswald, as his eyes widened and he smashed his glass of red against the floor. 

"What did Strange do to Edward? Where is he?" he demanded, grasping the biceps of the thug. 

Oswald could not help but assume the worst. He knew he could have never wholeheartedly trusted Strange, not after all he had done to Oswald in Arkham. Though Oswald trusted the deranged professor to bring his friend back to life, he'd be naive to assume that Ed would be brought back in one piece. 

Oswald kept shaking the thug that he grasped onto, begging the answer out. 

"H-he escaped, boss" the thug replied, now scared for his own life. 

"What?" Oswald cried, both infuriated by Strange's lack of security and worried for Edward's well being. 

Over the weeks that followed, Oswald remained in a plateaued state of concern and apprehension. He continued to try and occupy his mind with rebuilding his empire. However, his thoughts couldn't help but fall back towards Edward; where he could be, what he could be doing, what he could be feeling? 

Though Strange mentioned to Oswald that Ed had originally awoken in perfect physical health, the city was in no state to be alone in. 

Eventually the rumours made their way to the Iceberg Lounge. Profane whispers of "The Riddler scavenging the dirty streets completely naked" and how Edward was now "Covered from head to toe in tattoos like some sort of freak show attraction!". Oswald refused to take gospel to any of the nonsense that he heard, though the rumours at least comforted the thought that Edward was alive. 

He sipped his bitter drink as he sat cross legged on his bar stool, overlooking the club's patrons. Though he always tried his best to look stoic and intimidating, he couldn't help but feel vulnerable and disappointed as Edward's face was undetected amongst the flowing crowd. 

Everything that he heard about Edward, only made Oswald feel more guilty for what may have happened to him. 

They may have left each other on unsteady terms, but Oswald cared too much for Edward, as he always had. The thought of such impenetrable comments to be true about his friend had pushed Oswald's worries to the edge, and he got up from his seat to order his men to begin searching for Edward Nygma. 

"Are you gonna go in, Boss?" one of Oswald's men asked behind him, now growing impatient. 

"Give me a moment!" Oswald huffed in annoyance, still facing the door. He hesitantly brought a gloved fist to the door, pausing a moment before biting the bullet and giving the wood a sturdy knock. 

He immediately stepped back, awaiting a response from the other side. Oswald could hear his pulse hammering his eardrums as he waited. He was patient, he didn't want to startle Ed and whatever state he was in by barging through uninvited. However, after subsequent minutes Oswald knocked again and was met again with the absence of a welcome. 

"You are definitely sure that Ed is in there?" he asked the men behind him again, this time turning to face them. 

"The city library? Yeah, positive sir" the man on his right replied, followed by a tight swallow. 

Oswald glared at him, silently cursing before holding his hand to the brass handle. It was unlocked, which was met with Oswald's surprise as he twisted the handle and slowly opened the heavy door the best he could. As he collected his cane that was resting beside him, Oswald's men opened the door for him and he could finally peer into the supposed hideout of Edward Nygma. 

As Oswald had suspected, from what he could see, the once recognisable public library was a catastrophic mess. His cane crunched against scattered papers and hardcovers as Oswald limped cautiously through the room. Bearing guns, his men followed behind him, observing just as much. 

Despite the bright daylight outside, the room was dimly lit by dripping candles littered all over the furniture and dangerously by the floor. Oswald crept further into the library, noticing dust dancing visibly through the light beams. Suddenly, his cane made a quiet *crunch* sound, and Oswald looked down to find shattered pieces of red glass all over the floor. He tilted his head as his eyes followed the scattered pieces and tried his mind's best to fit them together. The noticeable curves and edges concluded that the pieces made up the shape of a heart, a crystal monument that Ed must have thrown. 

Looking back up, Oswald had noticed an orange glow illuminating from the other side of the room. He soon began to approach it, assuming the sporadic flickers of light coming from a warm fireplace. He could hear the crackle of the firewood and watch the dark dust of the embers flying around the room as Oswald and his men grew closer. The fireplace was long overdue to be cleaned and tended to, with ash spilling onto the floor and logs placed loosely in the pit as if they had been tossed. With this observation, Oswald's concern thickened. 

He pictured Ed struggling to lift the longs and light the fire with shaky, frozen arms as the bitter cold night nipped at his naked limbs. The fire was not dying, nor was it young, an indication that whoever had lit it may still have been present in the room. 

"Edward?" Oswald called out quietly, still worried of startling the man if he were hiding. Without an answer, the Penguin continued to shuffle around the clattered room while his men split up to do their own observations. 

Oswald then came across a closed red wooden door in the corner past the fireplace. Using his cane, he pushed the doors open and was immediately met with shivering cool air. Limping inside, Oswald's hopes began to rise as he observed Ed's signature emerald-green suit torn and tossed on the floorboards. He quickened his pace as he found an unmade bed in the corner of the room with a pair of glasses that were unmistakably Ed's lying on a lumpy pillow. Oswald gasped with a smile as he delicately picked the spectacles up, cradling them in his free hand as he continued to search for his friend. 

There were splotches and splatters of dried black ink all over the floorboards by the bed, and Oswald noticed them as giving plausibility to those rumours. He didn't think that Ed would have been capable of mutilating himself in such a way. Oswald knew of how his father had permanently scarred his young skin, so he never dared think that Edward do such flagellation to himself. This thought only frightened Oswald further for the man that his old friend may have become, since coming back from the darkness of death. 

All of a sudden, a muffled voice made itself known to Oswald's ears. His eyelids tightened as he tried to focus on the sound, trying to recognise where it was coming from. The voice was soft and jagged as if it had not been used for a matter of time. Oswald began walking towards a grey corner of the room which a clatter of bookcases remained, and the voice grew louder. He quickly began to recognise the voice as Edward's, the roughness of his pronunciations contrasting with the smoothness of his tone. Oswald knew that voice anywhere, however he couldn't make out where the voice was coming from, and what it was Edward was saying. Everything sounded muffled and jumbled and incoherent. Oswald tried his best to move one of the bookcases out of the way, but he was too weak. It barely budged and he stepped back in frustration, pondering what he could do to get past. 

The shelves of books held quite a bit of space between them, enough space for a child or small adult to slip through if they tried. Using his cane, Oswald pushed all of the books from two shelves onto the floor so there was space open for him to see, and hopefully fit through. Oswald realised the voice had abruptly stopped, and he hurriedly moved towards one of the gaps to see though to the other side.

Oswald gasped at what he saw, his eyes opened wide in utter shock.

The body of Edward Nygma was cornered to the other side of the wall like a frightened dog. His head was by his knees as his arms buried his face from all that was around him. His skin was stained in black ink and red wounds that scattered numerously over his hunched body. The bottom half of Ed's body was basked in a shadow so Oswald could not tell if the missing man was naked or not, but Oswald was too concerned to care.

He immediately dropped his cane and began crouching down between the bookshelves and crawled himself to the other side. 

Ed had his head buried further into his arms, and Oswald's heart dropped at how frightened Ed appeared to be of him. He carefully inched himself closer to Edward, being careful not to make any loud movements that could terrify Ed further. 

Oswald felt an unauthorised trickle fall down his cheek as he took in a closer look of Edward's form. To anyone else, Edward would have seemed unrecognisable. His hair was ruffled and much longer then when Oswald last saw him lying on Strange's table. As his eyes followed down Ed's body, the ink on his skin showed greater details. Some of the markings were flaky and rough from healing, tattoos that were made from weeks ago possibly. Others were fresh with an angry ring of red that surrounded each letter. Letters. Oswald was now close enough to Ed's body to decipher what exactly Ed had mutilated onto his body. 

He titled his head to read a tattoo that was written up Ed's arm; "What has two eyes but can't see?". A riddle. 

The letters were jumbled and messy, clearly applied without much care. Oswald then realised that all the letters scattered on Ed's body were from words that formed various riddles accompanied with question marks. The rumours were true.

"Ed?" Oswald tried, making his voice as soft and as calm as he possibly could in that moment. 

He saw Ed's arm flinch, indicating that the man did hear him, however ceased to respond. Oswald looked down, only then noticing that Edward was naked and that he must have been freezing from keeping the door closed and not letting the heat from the fire inside. 

With a shaky hand, Oswald lightly traced the side of Ed's arm to grab his attention, if he still possessed such a thing. Oswald held his breath as Edward slowly lifted his head up from his arms and met his glassy, confused eyes with Oswald's. 

"Ed?" Oswald gasped, accidentally tightening his soft grip on his friend's arm. Edward's eyes were grey and empty as they rose from his arms, recognising the voice of another person from long ago calling his name. He thought he was dreaming, or more plausibly hallucinating. Ed couldn't understand why but the hushed voice brought a feeling of warmth and light to his chest. The gloved hand that clutched to his arm was delicate and comforting. He didn't want to stray from that feeling, so he struggled to push past his fear in order to meet eyes with the person who was beside him.

"O-os-?" Ed choked out, his fractured mind restraining the words from being eloquently spoken.

Oswald gasped once more, before smiled radiantly as Edward recognised him, relief flushing his face. 

"Yes, yes it's me, Oswald!" he nodded, scooting just a bit closer to his friend, thankful that Ed was no longer afraid of him. 

"Oswald" Ed croaked softly, and then began to tremble. Tears began to fall down his cheeks as if emotion was consuming him entirely, silently watching Oswald as if he were crying out for help. 

Oswald's face dropped almost in sync with the other man's, and he observed a single tear slide down the edge of Edward's cheek. 

"Oh Ed" Oswald sighed, feeling his own eyes grow misty. He held his gloved hand around Ed's cheek to delicately capture falling tears. Though Ed was not able to vocalise how he felt in his current state, Oswald could see his emotion. He knew how sorrowful and broken his mind must have felt, but Oswald felt humbled that he was able to bring Ed's thoughts together, if even only for this moment.

Ed couldn't look away from Oswald. He could feel his mind reconstruct itself as he peered into the other man's blue eyes. Pieces of himself were coming together as Oswald hushed his name and collected his tears. It was the first time that Edward had felt any sliver of comfort since being brought back, and the first time he had felt anything like himself. 

He tried speaking again but Oswald reassured him with a soothing hush that it was unnecessary. Even with a fractured mind, Oswald could understand him more than words ever needed to. 

"You need me don't you?" Oswald asked him, caressing Ed's cheek now that his tears had stopped falling. 

Ed eased into the caress and nodded, knowing exactly what Oswald meant.

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't planning on stopping the story here, but it kind of just felt right :)
> 
> Let me know your thoughts on this as your feedback is always much appreciated <3


End file.
